“So what would happen if they did take their helmets off?” Viola asked.
“At best, they would faint,” Robert answered without missing a beat. “At worst, well, it could be a lot worse than fainting. The Kompound is a conventional structure with a conventional life support system. There’s no microsphere, no artificial atmosphere, nothing like that. There are operational and research-based reasons for the lower oxygen concentration in the Kompound, and the test subjects know all about the gradual reduction over time and have been closely monitored throughout, but all you need to know is that the variation exists and that it would be catastrophically dangerous to ignore it. It’s…” Robert paused, searching for the words. “It’s not exactly like diving, and I’m not an expert on diving terminology, but if you think of someone coming back up too quickly… they’re fine at the bottom and they’re fine on the surface, but the change can be what gets them. Decompression sickness — that’s what they call it in diving. Like I said, it’s not exactly the same. The oxygen concentration isn’t a problem for any of them because the change has been gradual and carefully monitored, but if you took off your helmets in there it would be like teleporting to a point higher than the summit of Mount Everest. The sudden change would cause a real shock to your system, and even brief exposure could pose serious problems. We could effectively be looking at asphyxiation, hypoxia… things we really don’t want to see. Just don’t test it out, okay? Your voices will come through the Kompound’s internal speakers via your helmets, and we have no reason to believe that Steve knocked the speaker offline; only that he killed the data links to the outside. But remember: there’s no room for even thinking about taking your helmets off.”
Holly and Peter looked at each other.
“Kind of glad you remembered to tell us that, Robert,” Peter deadpanned.
“Better late than never,” Holly added, with the Kompound now no more than a quarter of a mile away. “Bo, I’m going to slow it down, okay?”
“Okay. Nice and stead— woah, Holly, slowly!”
All of a sudden, an ominous red warning light began to flash inside the rover.
There was no alarm, but the readings on the dashboard were alarming enough; everywhere the trio looked, they saw only red.
“What are you doing out there?” Holly yelled. “Bo, where’s the bubble?”
“Exactly where it should be!” Bo replied, uncharacteristic anger in his tone.
Fortunately the flashing light then ceased as quickly as it had begun, the readings immediately turning green once more.
“Since when does ‘I’m going to slow it down’ mean ‘I’m going to slam the breaks and start crawling?’” Bo asked. “You have to talk to me here, Holly! I’m manually controlling this thing. I need a warning if you’re going to stop!”
“I’m sorry,” Holly said. “The brakes are a lot tighter than I expected. That was my fault. But on the bright side…”
“The rover held up,” Viola concluded.
“It always will, but that doesn’t mean I want you to test it again,” Bo said. “Two safety nets are better than one. Just keep going at this pace until you reach the parking spot at the service bay. From there, the bubble is all you’ll have. Needless to say, you have to enter the code and get inside as quickly as you can.”
“I’m guessing there is more of a plan than that, right?” Viola said, directing the inflected question at no one in particular.
“We know what we’re doing,” Peter replied. “You are staying in here, of course, and Holly and I will do whatever it takes to halt the evacuation procedure. We’ll have around ten minutes, which is enough. Depending on how easily it all goes and how Steve reacts, one of us might have to stay with him while the other joins you in bringing everyone else back to the Buffer. But don’t worry, V; this isn’t like when me and Holly burst into the room where Boyce was holding Grav, while you were doing your part in the bunker. We are not confronting an armed man who woke up this morning with murder on his mind.”
“But isn’t that the whole thing?” Viola asked. “Steve isn’t like Boyce, but doesn’t that make this even harder? Steve has legitimately lost his mind. He didn’t wake up this morning and decide to go on a killing spree, but he’s not acting rationally and that makes him unpredictable. We don’t know what Steve is doing right now or what he wants to happen to the others, let alone how he’ll react to seeing you.”
“Relax,” Peter said, trying to sound soothing. “He has no real weaponry and no allies. If this kind of thing was happening in a regular environment, with the same perpetrator and similar schematics, it would be a walk in the park. What we are really up against here isn’t Steve Shepherd, it’s the complications of the atmosphere and the system functions we can’t override from the outside. And those are things we do know about. Those are things we do understand. Whatever Steve wants to do, he couldn’t get past one of us. So with two? Steve is not a problem and the conditions are not a mystery.”
Over the sound of silence, Holly continued to direct the rover to the service bay with Bo watching like a hawk and tracing the expected path with his finger. “I’m going to slow it down again,” she told him. “I don’t want that to be a mystery this time, either.”
Bo didn’t laugh, too focused on keeping the bubble around the rover until both were stationary.
Moments later, the rover safely drew to a halt.
“Well, Bo,” Holly said. “I guess you’ve done your part…”
thirty-two
Unseen by anyone in the observation room or anywhere else on Terradox, Steve Shepherd finalised his personal preparations to leave the Kompound. Time had failed to temper his irrational determination to do so, and if anything the countdown to the evacuation procedure’s completion had only strengthened his resolve.
As soon as that countdown reached zero and the airlock opened to allow Steve’s exit in a rover he believed capable of traversing the hellish landscape outside, he would be gone without a backwards glance.
“Nine minutes until emergency evacuation procedure completion,” an automated voice announced. “Ensure all personnel are securely within the exit vehicle before procedure completion.”
With each announcement, which had been airing at three-minute intervals, Nisha Kohli grew ever more tempted to press the button to cancel the procedure. But each time, she held herself back in the desperate hope that Chase would soon awaken from his unconscious and likely seriously concussed stupor. Without him there to contend with Steve, any obstructive actions or delaying tactics would only push Steve towards an unstoppable violent reaction and an inevitable second initiation of the evacuation procedure. She couldn’t imagine that Steve would be as sloppy as he had been last time if he had to return to the control centre — he was bound to deal with Chase more decisively and potentially with deadly finality — and this was self-evidently something Nisha wanted to avoid.
Her hopes were pinned on Chase waking up. If the countdown reached three minutes, she would have no choice but to hit the button and invite whatever retribution might follow. But until then, where there was life, there was hope.
And then, at last, came an idea.
It wasn’t perfect — it wasn’t even particularly good — but it was better than nothing, and it was all she had.
“Marcel!” she yelled, having no difficulty in tinging the call with fear and urgency. “He’s not breathing!”
Marcel, still keeping a close eye on Steve and trying to think of ideas of his own while pretending to slowly grow receptive to Steve’s plan to leave, immediately sprinted towards the control centre.
Steve followed, walking slowly and ponderously. His initial expression upon hearing the words, as Marcel noticed, was one of a man hearing unwelcome news. Evidently, while he had been trying to stop Chase, he hadn’t been trying to kill him.
Marcel wore a pained expression of sorrow as he sprinted towards his friend’s lifeless body.
But as he grew near, he noticed that N
isha’s expression didn’t match his own. Instead, she sat next to Chase with raised eyebrows and performed a subtle cut-throat gesture. Combined with the wink that followed, this got the message across: “he’s not really dead, but don’t let on…”
Marcel slowed to a walk until Nisha beckoned him to hurry up and get down on the floor beside her and Chase.
“Pretend to check him over and pretend he’s dead,” she whispered, leaving no gap for Marcel to reply at all, much less ask any questions. “I’m going to pretend to be reluctantly willing to leave and I’ll ask Steve to help with my suit. We need to lock him inside the privacy room, because that’s the only room with a door that isn’t recessed. It opens outwards, into the corridor, so we can do it.”
“How?” Marcel asked under his breath, pretending to listen and feel for a heartbeat. Steve was walking so slowly that he wasn’t yet in sight, but they could take no chances. “How do we get him in, and how do we lock him in?”
“We can barricade the door with our own bodies at first, and then get the others to push a bed or the kitchen table into the corridor.”
“And the part about getting him in there?” Marcel pushed. He wasn’t against the idea, but there were large gaps to be filled.
“I’ll go in there to get into my suit,” Nisha said. “Modesty! I’ll say I have to take some of my clothes off before I jump into the under-suit. That should work, and small details won’t trip us up when his mind is totally in the clouds. Then I’ll pretend to have trouble getting it on, he’ll come in to help, and I’ll manoeuvre myself to be nearer the door than he is. As soon as I make my move, you’ll be ready to slam the door closed. I’ll count down from five with my fingers while he’s trying to fix my suit, and on zero I’ll push him backwards and jump out. You’ll be waiting to slam the door closed as soon as I’m out. As soon as I’m out. Okay? Are you with me?”
Marcel hesitated.
“He’s coming,” Nisha said.
“I’m in,” Marcel gulped. “He thinks I’m coming around to the idea of leaving anyway, so I’ll make it seem like I’ve talked you into it. And when you put your suit on, tell him your helmet’s HUD has detected a tear or a hole in the back. He’ll be looking for a problem that isn’t there.”
“Steve!” Nisha called, dialling up the emotion in her voice as well as the volume as the cause of all of their problems stepped towards the edge of the control centre. “He’s… he’s…”
“He’s dead,” Marcel interjected, finishing the sentence. “Listen, Nisha, this isn’t easy… but if we’re leaving, we have to leave now.”
Steve surveyed the situation. Chase was motionless, appearing dead enough from his doorway vantage point. Nisha looked utterly dejected, and Steve considered the point that she had spent the past twenty minutes sitting over Chase’s body, at no stage pressing the nearby button to halt the evacuation procedure on one of the surviving parts of the console, as anyone who was truly against him doubtless would have done by now.
“What’s done is done,” he said, firmly but without sounding overly blasé. “We can’t change that, but we can get out of here. We can get out of here and deal with the pieces of shit who have taken over in the Buffer. Whoever flashed the light, whoever pretended to be Holly… we can make them pay for this. They did this. They turned us against each other.”
With all that had happened since, it had been easy to forget the seemingly small events that had pushed Steve’s state of mind over the edge and into the dangerous abyss where it currently resided. Nisha’s mouth wanted to scream about how crazy he sounded — about how crazy he was being — but she had to restrain herself. The briefest of glances at Marcel told her that he was struggling with the same thing.
Even at the news of Chase’s apparent death, the elusive duo of Lee Kim and Sara Helms remained hidden behind the doorway of one of their rooms as they had been since Steve’s irrationality reached its peak. In terms of improving their survival chances, they may as well have been children closing their eyes in the hopes it would make them invisible, but they were currently as far out of the others’ minds as they were out of their sight.
“Whoever is out there will pay for this,” Marcel snarled.
Nisha wiped away a tear and rose to her feet, accepting Steve’s offer of a consoling arm. “Let’s go,” she said. “I need my suit.”
thirty-three
“Whatever happens, you do not come inside,” Holly said, turning to Viola.
“Seriously,” Peter added. “V, unless we explicitly ask you to come inside, I need you to promise that you won’t. And I’m not saying ‘even if it sounds like we’re in trouble’, I’m saying ‘especially if it sounds like we’re in trouble’. Okay?”
Viola hesitated. “If you run into trouble, I’m not going to sit here and—”
“Bo, can you remotely lock the rover?” Holly interrupted.
“Yes,” he replied from his seat in the Buffer, several miles away.
Holly looked at Viola; behind the helmet of the most protective EVA suit ever produced on Terradox, it was very difficult to make out her expression or even see her face.
“Get in, get out, get back,” Grav boomed through the rover’s radio. “And goddamnit, you two: get on with it!”
“Bo…” Holly said, barely above a whisper. “Is it safe to open the door?”
In lieu of a verbal answer, Bo remotely opened the rover’s door.
“That will be a yes, then,” Peter laughed, seeing the funny side while Holly and Viola were only relieved.
“The bubble will very safely cover your few steps to the service bay’s door,” Bo said. “It will also cover the door, so when you open it there will be no problem of atmospheric leakage in either direction. There wasn’t enough space in here to set up a bubble big enough to cover the Kompound’s primary airlock, which obviously would have been ideal for protecting everyone inside, and I couldn’t have set it up out there on the surface because obviously the air would have been no good. What we do have will work, but we still don’t want to take any unnecessary chances. Make sure to close the door behind you as soon as you get in, and from there you’ll be safely inside. The button to close the door is huge, like a fire alarm. Hit it as soon as you get in.”
“Get in, get out, get back, Hollywood,” Grav repeated, leaning directly over Bo’s microphone to make sure she heard it loud and clear.
“As always,” Holly replied. Once she and Peter were outside and the rover’s door closed behind them, they would only be in direct communication with Viola. This was when Viola’s presence would become crucial, enabling them to stay in touch with the Buffer once they entered the Kompound thanks to their helmets’ excellent short-range communication abilities which could penetrate even the Kompound’s heavily reinforced walls.
Before leaving, Peter then clasped Viola’s hand; their suits’ dextrous finger coverings allowed at least some degree of shared feeling. “Bye for now,” he whispered.
“Bye for now,” Viola replied, fighting not to cry and unable to wipe away the stubborn tears forming inside her helmet.
Holly encouraged Peter to feel free to go down the steps first — walking on the hostile surface of Little Venus was a regrettable necessity rather than a giant leap for anyone — and then paused briefly next to Viola before following him out.
“I want to say sorry for how things have been lately,” she said. “Everyone always says that power corrupts, which it hasn’t, but no one ever tells you that responsibility isolates. And trust me, it does.”
“I’m sorry, too; I overreacted to a few things,” Viola admitted. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? I just want to say one more thing before you go.”
“What?”
Viola spoke slowly, over-enunciating her next two words for emphasis: “Remy Bouchard.”
“R-Remy? Why would you mention Rem—”
“He was a good man, but he was standing between us and everyone else’s safety,” Viola interjected. “You did what
had to be done when Remy wouldn’t get out of the way, and you saved a lot of lives by doing it.”
“We’ll do whatever it takes,” Peter said, impatiently replying on Holly’s behalf having heard everything thanks to their helmet-based comms link. “But come on, Holly, I’m ready to enter the code.”
Holly stood up. “I still see Remy’s twin daughters when I close my eyes at night,” she said. “CeeCee and DeeDee. I wonder where they are, how they’re doing without him, how Cherise is doing without him. And then I try to think of all the other children who jumped around when Sakura told them that their parents were okay. And now Sakura…”
“Holly, hurry up!” Peter boomed.
“Sakura is one of too many good people who have died here already,” Viola said. “But Steve… the way he is now? He’s a Boyce. He’s a Dante. He’s a threat to the innocent, and no more innocent people are dying here. No more, Holly. Whatever it takes.”
Holly nodded slowly to psych herself up, too slightly for the motion to perceptibly move her heavy helmet. She stepped outside and joined Peter at the locked door, taking her safety for granted inside Bo’s miraculous bubble. “Have you typed in the code?” she asked.
“I was waiting for you,” Peter said.
Holly stepped directly in front of the keypad and entered an emergency access code which was familiar from previous vehicles and structures: 2 8 2 8 0 2.
“We’re in!” Peter exclaimed as the Kompound’s outer access hatch began to recede.
“Viola?” Holly said. “Do you read?”
“Whatever it takes, Holly,” she replied affirmatively.
Holly exhaled slowly and deeply. “Whatever it takes.”
thirty-four
While Steve led Nisha to her suit and talked her through his plan for tackling the enemies he believed to have seized control of the Buffer and everything else on Terradox, Marcel let the others in on the plan. Both Kim and Sara nodded meekly. Rather than resent their lack of assistance, Marcel felt a degree of sympathy. Like Steve, in a sense, they were out of their depths in a situation they weren’t built for.
Terradox Quadrilogy Page 81
